Tick
by Liete
Summary: -UK/US, AU- 'Everyone knows that Arthur hates him. Or, at least, that's what he's always believed, but the past few minutes have been rapidly changing that belief.'


**Tick**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: This originated as a two part story on Tumblr as accompaniments to pictures posted there.  
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><p>"I know you've been watching me, Jones," Arthur says, his back to him, allowing Alfred's eyes to widen in panic before he regains his composure. All he has to do is play it cool.<p>

"Don't be ridiculous, dude. It's just those enormous eyebrows. I'm amazed you can actually see with those things on your face," he replies, laughing.

Arthur whips around and glares at him, his cheeks red, but then he too regains his composure and his mouth turns up in a wry smile.

"No, I know that's not all it is. That damned frog tells me it's merely my wishful thinking, because, after all, how long have I wanted this? But no, I know I'm not merely mistaken."

Alfred swallows hard when Arthur starts toward him, and he backs up until he hits the wall. The sound echoes up the stairwell, but it's well after school has let out, so there are no other students around. He was kept after for disrupting class again, and naturally that meant having to assist the president.

Unfortunately for Alfred, he's been carrying a torch for Arthur for years, and being cornered and called out on it is something he's been desperate to avoid. Everyone knows that Arthur hates him.

Or, at least, that's what he's always believed, but the past few minutes have been rapidly changing that belief.

"Alfred," Arthur says, and Alfred jolts out of his thoughts when Arthur touches his chin, lifting it in his hand. Arthur's wry smile changes into a soft, fond expression, and despite Alfred's attempts to stop it from happening, his cheeks betray him by warming up. Something about hearing his first name in that voice and coming from those lips makes him both elated and extremely uncomfortable.

That discomfort increases tenfold as Arthur starts to close the distance between them. He jumps when their lips brush, and Arthur chuckles as he pulls back without completing the kiss. Arthur's expression is still fond when their eyes meet—without amusement at his expense, to Alfred's great relief. His entire body freezes when Arthur presses against him, his breath tickling his ear.

"I want to fuck you against this wall," Arthur says in a whisper into his ear. Alfred shivers and lets out a shuddering breath, but he quickly shakes his head, pushing Arthur away.

"Not cool, Kirkland," Alfred says, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to play it cool. His cheeks are burning and he's still feeling very uncomfortable. For as much as he wants Arthur, he wants any developments between them to be somewhere special, where it's a mutual effort.

Arthur looks hurt for a moment, but then his expression is as irritable as ever. He nods and turns away, walking with brisk steps up the stairs.

"Yes, well. I hope I won't see you being held after school anymore from now on, Jones."

Alfred watches until Arthur disappears up the stairs and into a doorway on the next level, then he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he slowly sinks to the floor.

So much for Arthur hating him, after all.

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><p>Alfred tells himself that he's not avoiding Arthur. The fact that he takes longer routes to get to his classrooms, ducks into hallways to avoid being seen and behaving himself in class so he won't be kept after school are merely attempts at self improvement. He stands out too much sometimes—it's important to let others have their chance to shine.<p>

The moment his eyes fall on Arthur, however, his cheeks instantly start to burn and his heart races, and he remembers that afternoon in one of the stairwells. Never would he have imagined that his feelings for Arthur are reciprocated, not when they've antagonized each other for years.

So, in a very unheroic move, he has indeed been avoiding Arthur so he won't have to confront him over what happened. Before he wished that Arthur wasn't an upperclassman so they could spend more time around each other, but now he's thankful for it, since it lessens the number of times he has to use ridiculous tactics to avoid confrontation.

Eventually he will have to stop running away, but for now it's all he can do.

As he's walking home one afternoon, it occurs to him that he left an important text in the classroom—a book he needs to study for a test that might make or break his academic future. He swears as he doubles back and sprints in the direction of the school.

The hallways are mostly empty except for the occasional student heading for their after school activities, so it's an easy jog back to the classroom. It's thankfully unlocked, so he can easily slip in and cross the room to where the book is still sitting on his desk. He shoves it into his backpack and turns to leave.

"Jones."

Alfred jumps, his heart feeling like it's doing a somersault in his chest, and he clutches at his chest.

"Holy shit, don't do that!" He glares at Arthur, who clicks his tongue and closes the door behind him.

Arthur folds his arms and glares, though there is an unmistakable hurt look in his eyes, as well. Alfred swallows as Arthur crosses the room, his eyes narrowing as he gets closer.

"Sit down, Jones," Arthur says, and although Alfred scowls, he complies and sits on top of one of the desks, unwilling to be too far underneath Arthur's eye level. Arthur's eyes narrow further, and he lets out a sigh and shakes his head.

"First you won't stop watching me, and now you won't stop running away from me," Arthur says, meeting Alfred's gaze.

Although he doesn't say it, Alfred can hear the hurt accusation in Arthur's words. His heart clenches knowing that he's been hurting Arthur's feelings, but rather than apologize or tell the truth, he smirks and shakes his head.

"Ha ha ha, well. Those eyebrows were starting to blind me, so I had to—"

He jumps when Arthur slams his hands on the desk, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Don't be so foolish, Jones! Is it not enough that I've made an ass of myself in front of you?"

Alfred's eyes widen as he gapes at Arthur, who stares at him as though searching for answers in his eyes. Alfred can think of many sarcastic things to reply with—things that would further anger and humiliate Arthur, but that's not what he wants at all. He's been in love with Arthur for years, and actually hurting him is the last thing he wants.

So while he would have preferred taking Arthur to the big tree outside the school and maybe saying something along the lines of "so I might like you a little", he instead grabs Arthur's face and pulls him into a clumsy kiss, muffling Arthur's noise of surprise.

Arthur is stiff at first, and Alfred is left to move his lips on Arthur's in an excruciatingly awkward fashion, but then he lifts his hands to touch Alfred's face. His hands are trembling before they curl around Alfred's jaw, and Alfred is pushed back by the force of Arthur's kiss. Alfred groans as Arthur takes control of the kiss, his greater experience shining through as Arthur manages to force his mouth open so their tongues touch, then entangle.

Alfred can only cling to Arthur, his hands digging into Arthur's sweatervest, as his head starts to go fuzzy. Arthur keeps nipping at his lips, then bringing them together in an almost tender fashion before he dips his tongue into his mouth again. Alfred can barely keep up, but the way Arthur's thumb massages his jaw tells him that it doesn't matter.

"Oh, I've loved you for so long…" Arthur says in a breathless voice as he breaks the kiss, moving his head to Alfred's neck instead.

Alfred catches his breath, nearly wheezing as he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling in bewilderment. Arthur is biting at his neck, swiping his tongue over them and pressing open-mouthed kisses as he trails downward, his hands already removing his tie. A week ago they were hurling insults across a crowded hallway and now Arthur is unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his skin like his life depends on it.

Alfred lets out a laugh as Arthur's hands slip into his shirt, pushing it open so his hands can roam over his exposed chest. Arthur pauses at the sound and looks up at him, his eyes full of so much love and desire that Alfred's already flushed cheeks feel like they're on fire.

"All right?"

"Y-Yeah, I guess so," Alfred says, clearing his throat when he hears how hoarse he sounds. Arthur smiles and lowers his head back to kiss at his chest.

Alfred pants and shivers, fisting his hand in Arthur's sweatervest while he watches Arthur kiss and touch his upper body, his eyes alternating between closed and half-lidded. It's a very arousing thing to watch, and with the way Arthur keeps drifting lower, he's bound to notice the evidence of his discomfort tenting in his pants. A curse is cut off into a moan when Arthur licks his abs, taking his time swiping his tongue over them.

Arthur lifts his head with a smirk, and he takes Alfred's dangling tie in his teeth as he starts to stand up straight, though his hands work at Alfred's belt, removing it and unzipping his pants.

Alfred's mind goes into overdrive, and his eyes widen as he realizes that they might actually—

The sound of the door opening makes them both freeze and turn to look at who has interrupted them, and Alfred feels the blood drain from his face before it heats up again. Standing there looking as though Christmas has come early is Francis.

"Oh, fuck. F-Francis, this isn't what it looks like, really!" Alfred waves his arms for lack of anything more convincing to do, but he knows that they're screwed either way. His chest is exposed and his pants undone, and Arthur is holding his tie in his teeth. There really isn't anything else it could be.

"No? Care to tell me what it is then, mon ami?"

Arthur has been silent up to this point, but he slowly stands up straight, dropping the tie from his mouth. He smooths out the wrinkles on his vest, taking a deep breath before he visibly bristles.

"Get out! Get out, you damned frog bastard!" He picks up one of the desk chairs and throws it at Francis, who ducks back into the hallway with a laugh. Arthur paces around the room gesticulating wildly and letting out a string of curse words that would make a sailor cry. Finally he stops and whips around to glare at Alfred.

"Well, what are you doing just gaping there like an idiot? Clean yourself up," Arthur says in an irritable voice.

Alfred watches in amazement as Arthur disappears into the hallway, swearing all the while, and then he eases himself off the desk and fixes his clothes, as casual as though nothing happened. He grabs his backpack again and walks into the hallway, making his way to the exit so he can head home.

On his way out he passes by Arthur filing through paperwork, and Arthur's cheeks turn red before he averts his face. Alfred smiles, a spring in his step as he leaves the school.


End file.
